


Tag! You’re It!

by Gray_Skies_Rising



Series: Living in the Dawn and Dusk [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Are You Proud of Me?, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, Blanket Permission, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dark Batfamily (DCU), Fluff, Gen, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Implied Child Abandonment, Jack Drake’s A+ Parenting, Janet Drake’s A+ Parenting, Memtiomed Janet Drake, Mentioned Jack Drake, Photography, Romani Dick Grayson, Tag, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trespassing, Young Tim deserves happiness and I’m going to give it to him, i finally wrote fluff, implied Touch Starvation, most of this is, these are all really minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24107176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gray_Skies_Rising/pseuds/Gray_Skies_Rising
Summary: Tim doesn’t know if he’s allowed to speak. He wants to tell the boy that he isn’t with any reporters. He wants to ask who ‘Babi’ is. He wants to ask who the boy is and why he’s also on Mister Wayne’s property. As far as Tim knows, Mister Wayne doesn’t have any children, but maybe the boy is like him. He wants to ask a lot of questions, but doesn’t know if he can. What exactly is the social etiquette for when someone drops on top of you and accuses you of taking photos to sell to reporters because you were actually trespassing to take pictures of your neighbors garden?Tim didn’t have a clue.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Living in the Dawn and Dusk [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735045
Comments: 31
Kudos: 611





	Tag! You’re It!

**Author's Note:**

> Tw: implied child abandonment, implied touch starvation (really it’s just everything you get when writing a young Tim Drake)
> 
> Guys, I did it. I wrote fluff! Like there’s a tiny bit of sprinkled in angst, but it mostly fluff! I was going to make this A LOT angstier, but my brain did a complete 180 on me and I just wrote fluff instead!
> 
> P.s. Tim is around 7 or 8 (possibly younger) in this. So he’s already following Batman and Robin around but he hasn’t figured out their identities just yet.
> 
> Also, I have Dick call Bruce ‘Babi’ in this because it’s what I’m always seeming be used for Romani!Dick instead of calling Bruce ‘Dad’. If you know a more accurate name, please tell me!

Tim knew he probably shouldn’t be here. It was technically trespassing. Trespassing was illegal. If he got caught, he would get in trouble. If he got in trouble, his parents would be angry with him. When they got angry at him, they took longer trips.

But then again, would it actually be trespassing if you didn’t legally exist?

Yes, yes it would.

The camera felt heavy in Tim’s hands. He really needed to leave.

But he had heard how Janet had raved about Mister Wayne’s gardens. About how lush and stunning they were. About how, ‘they just get better and better every year, Jack’.

He had heard her complain because, ‘why couldn’t their gardeners make the hedges look like that?’ and ‘why couldn’t the gardeners make the cleared woodland look just as natural?’

Tim didn’t really know why she was complaining. He personally thought the gardens were really pretty. Plus, he could always get the coolest pictures of the animals and insects that lived there.

Even now, looking through the trees into Mister Wayne’s garden, brought no clarity on the subject. It just looked like a bigger version of the garden back home. Nothing that was really worth firing and hiring new gardeners every year.

Maybe it was a grownup thing.

Whenever he asked, Janet would always say that he would understand when he was older. Tim didn’t know if he truly believed her or not.

She and Jack lied to him often enough.

That was probably a grownup thing, too.

A black swallowtail butterfly fluttered onto one of the flowers of wild raspberries and Tim crouched to take a picture.

“Hey, there,”

Tim is not ashamed to admit that he squeaked. He is not.

A Drake should never be ashamed of what they do. At least, that’s what Jack says.

Tim whirled around, clutching his camera to his chest.

Behind him was an older boy who was slumped comfortably against one of the trees. Cold blue eyes peeked out from under a mop of black hair. It was probably Tim’s imagination, but for a second, he thought the other boy’s eyes flashed gold.

“Whatcha doing here?”

He had been caught. He had been caught and his parents were going to be angry with him. They were going to go on a long trip and never return because they would be so angry.

So, Tim did the only thing he could think of.

He turned and ran.

Tim knew where he was going to some degree. He knew he was heading to the fence that surrounded the Wayne property, he just didn’t know where along the fence he would come to.

The blindspot in security was further south than his current location, but he didn’t want to change his trajectory just in case he ended up doubling back and getting completely lost. He just hoped he could get to the fence, climb over it, and be back onto his own property before the other boy could catch him.

Tim wasn’t that lucky.

A weight dropped from the branches of a tree straight onto Tim, making him crumple. As he went down, Tim curled himself protectively around his camera. He wasn’t going to have one of the only gifts he parents ever gave him break because he was stupid and got caught doing something that he knew he shouldn’t have been doing.

“You know,” the weight said as he rolled off of Tim, “I’ve seen reporters do some weird things to get pictures of Babi, but sending children? That’s a new low, even for them.”

Tim doesn’t know if he’s allowed to speak. He wants to tell the boy that he isn’t with any reporters. He wants to ask who ‘Babi’ is. He wants to ask who the boy is and why he’s also on Mister Wayne’s property. As far as Tim knows, Mister Wayne doesn’t have any children, but maybe the boy is like him. He wants to ask a lot of questions, but doesn’t know if he can. What exactly is the social etiquette for when someone drops on top of you and accuses you of taking photos to sell to reporters because you were actually trespassing to take pictures of your neighbors garden?

Tim didn’t have a clue.

“Kid,” the boy poked Tim’s shoulder, “I know you're not dead.”

Tim cracked open an eyelid to peek at the boy.

The boy sat cross legged, staring intently at his face. His head was cocked to the side in a way that reminded Tim, strangely, of a bird.

“Who sent you here, kiddo?”

It probably wasn’t polite to leave the other boys questions unanswered. Even if Tim wasn’t supposed to be in this position at all.

“Nobody sent me,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Nobody sent me,” Tim repeated, slightly louder this time as he curled into himself a bit more.

“Then why are you here?”

The boy was leaning close to Tim’s face now. It actually made Tim really uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to point that out. Just in case the boy got mad.

Tim didn’t like it when people were mad at him.

“I wanted to take pictures of Mister Wayne’s garden. My mother always talks about how beautiful they are.”

Tim hoped telling the boy that he wasn’t there to take pictures of ‘Babi’ would get him to let Tim go.

However, it only brought on more questions.

“Who’s your mom?”

Janet had said that he could never say she was his mother. He was to say one of the staff was his parent if he was ever asked. She said it was to keep him safe. Besides, to the outside world, Timothy Drake didn’t exist.

But all of the latest staff had been fired and Janet was still in the process of hiring new people. Tim didn’t know who he could say that would hold up to any kind scrutiny.

The truth was probably the best answer.

“Janet.”

The boy rocked back and raised an eyebrow, “Janet as in Janet Drake? From next door?”

All Tim could do was nod.

The other boy was silent as he processed the information.

The boy probably won’t believe him, Tim realized. Janet and Jack Drake don’t legally or publicly have any children. Of course, there’s always rumors. But there were rumors about a secret child even before Tim had been born, so that was nothing new.

Tim prepared himself for the laughter and disbelief.

“You wanna play tag?”

Wait, what?

“Ya know, tag. Where one person is ‘it’ and they try and tag someone else. Then the person that they tagged in now ‘it’.”

Apparently, Tim had said that out loud.

“Yeah, you did. Are you okay, you don’t have a concussion or anything do you? Also, nice to meet you Tim, I’m Dick.”

“I’m fine,” Tim waved the boy- Dick’s- concern off, “Just reeling from the whiplash of that subject change.”

Dick shrugged, “I wanna play tag.”

Tim decided not to push it.

Plus, he hadn’t ever played tag, only ever heard about it in books and saw it in the shows on tv. It sounded fun.

Tim uncurled himself and sat up. Immediately, he was checking over the camera. He sighed with relief as he saw that there wasn’t even a scratch on it.

“Is there a place I can put my camera? I don't want to break it.”

Dick jumped to his feet and out stretched his hand, “I know just the place.”

Dick didn’t let go of Tim’s hand after he pulled him up, instead, Dick gripped his hand tighter and began to drag Tim through the forest.

Tim was sprinting to keep up with the older boys' long strides, but he still only barely kept up. Apparently, Dick thought he was still going slow, so Dick scooped Tim up in his arms and began to run. Clearly eager to get to their game.

Tim wrapped his arms around Dick’s neck and let out a small laugh. It had been so long since he had last been held that he forgot how good it felt.

He was so wrapped up in the warm feeling in his chest, that he didn’t even notice when they came to their destination.

It was a small cement patio. A small glass table rested in the center and was surrounded by chairs. If Tim glanced over the hedge on the other side, he could see the Wayne manor.

“Put it on the table.” Dick said as he put Tim down.

Tim pulled the camera strap from around his neck and carefully put the camera inside its bag, which hung at his side. He then placed the bag on the table.

Slowly, he turned back to Dick.

“So, how do we start? I’ve never played tag before.”

Dick looked almost offended for some reason.

“Never?”

Tim shook his head.

“Never ever?”

Tim shook his head again, confused.

“There’s never been anyone to play it with, besides, my parents don’t like it when I play games that make lots of noise.”

Dick’s expression went from offended to horrified. He quickly throws an arm around Tim’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry Timmers, we’re gonna fix that.”

Tim didn’t know exactly what Dick was going to fix, but decided against asking. Whatever it was, Tim just hoped it would be fun along the way.

“Now, I’m going to be ‘it’ first, so you can get the basics down. That’s how Babi did it when he was reteaching me. The objective of the game for whoever isn’t ‘it’ is to not be touched by the person that is ‘it’. So, I’m going to chase you and you have to run away from me for as long as you can, got it?”

Tim nodded.

“Kay, I’m gonna give you a five second head start. Ready?”

Tim looked at Dick in confusion.

“Set?”

Understanding washed over him and Tim frantically looked around, trying to find the perfect place to run.

“Go!”

Tim took off and Dick started to count to five.

Tim knew his short legs put him at an extreme disadvantage compared to Dick, but if he could manage to out maneuver Dick, he could survive for much longer. So he was ducking and weaving between hedges in what he thinks is a hedge maze.

A few right turns here. A couple of lefts there. Right. Right. Left. Right. Left. Left. Left. Right.

He was out of the maze and a giant expanse of lawn opened before him.

Turning to the left, he runs along the edge of the maze towards Wayne Manor.

He clears the maze and is left exposed in the large lawn. Tim spins around, trying to see if Dick is anywhere near him. Satisfied when he doesn’t see him, Tim runs diagonally across the lawn, seeking the shelter of another large hedge.

He gets halfway before he’s grabbed from behind and tackled.

Tim lands with an  _ oof, _ the wind knocked out of him and the world spinning around him.

“Hey, Timmy?” Dick’s face appeared in his vision, “That fun or what?”

Tim felt his face pull into a wide grin.

“So fun.”

Dick’s smile was even wider than Tim’s.

“One question though.”

Dick’s face disappeared from view, but Tim could hear him lay down in the grass next to him.

“Shoot.”

“When I’m ‘it’, so I have to tackle people like that?”

A hand patted Tim’s head.

“Nah, Baby Bird. You can if you want or you can just touch them. I just personally like to tackle people.”

“Okay.”

Then Tim got an idea.

Slowly he sat up, turned to Dick’s prone form beside him, and slapped him on the chest.

“YOU’RE IT!” He called as he was, once again, off like a shot.

“No fair!” Dick called after him, “I just tagged you!”  
  


—||—

Alfred looked up from the dishes long enough to glance out the window and see Dick tackle someone to the ground in his favorite way to ‘tag’ them.

“Looks like the young Master has found someone to play with,” he comments to his charge.

Bruce looks up from where the paper was detailing the Drake’s latest architectural find and where now on their way to Egypt for another. He stands up to join his pseudo-father at the window.

Looking out, Bruce wondered who exactly the child would be that brings out such a look of joy in his son’s face and how exactly Dick came upon him.

**Author's Note:**

> Later-
> 
> Dick: “Babi, this is Tim. He’s my new brother and your new son.”  
> Bruce: *Takes in a breath to argue that Dick can’t just claim random kids like stray animals.*”  
> Bruce: *Realizing that that argument would go nowhere because Dick stubborn and he can’t deny his son anything.*  
> Bruce: “Okay.”  
> Alfred: *Long suffering sigh of knowing.*
> 
> Thoughts? Ideas? A keysmash? Comment them down below!


End file.
